


Should I Have Gotten You Pornography Instead?

by Alate



Category: SPN, Supernatural
Genre: And Sam appears to get punched in the dick, M/M, and all is well
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-14
Updated: 2014-02-14
Packaged: 2018-01-12 09:32:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1184648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alate/pseuds/Alate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"NO," Dean corrects immediately.</p><p>Shameless, short Destiel schmoop oneshot. Happy Valentine's Day!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Should I Have Gotten You Pornography Instead?

It’s Valentine’s Day and it’s raining.

Dean frowns up at the very wet Castiel who is looking down at him with the weirdest expression on his face. Like when you open the door to a puppy in the rain. All drenched hope and messy hair and big sappy eyes, a little smile tugging on the corners of his lips in that vaguely awkward way Cas had of doing. He’s holding something behind his back, and Dean sets the book he’d been pretending to read aside, honestly grateful for the distraction. The Men of Letters have a lot of interesting stuff around, but that book had not been one of them.

He folds his fingers on his belly and lifts questioning brows at the angel. “If that’s a jar full of bees again, Cas, I’m going to kick your ass. Sam _still_ twitches when he hears buzzing.” Dean tilts his head to one side and eyes Cas up and down. His coat clings to him here and there and his shirt is nearly see-through. Dean adamantly pretends he doesn’t notice this, and his eyes drag back up to Castiel’s face. “You’re soaked,” he says, observantly. “Where’ve you been?”

Cas doesn’t look the least put out. He cocks his head with a low hum and his smile turns into more of a smirk. “It isn’t bees.” He brings his arm around and it’s a just-as-wet bundle of roses, clasped in his hand.

Dean feels his stomach flip over and he resists his knee-jerk instinct to push the flowers away and demand to know what the hell Cas was thinking. Defense mechanism. Instead, he furrows his brows and looks up at Cas’ face again. That big dumb puppy expression is still there.

“It’s Valentine’s Day… Sam told me that one is supposed to exchange flowers with the object of their affections.” Castiel wets his lips. “I wanted to get flowers for Sam too, as I am affectionate for him as well, but he told me that it is a special kind of affection. An affection only those like you and I share.” He blinks, and pushes the flowers forward. Dean awkwardly hovers between taking them and just touching the knuckles of Cas’ hand. “I assume you’ve gotten these before, from other people, but since it’s only us in the bunker right now… I didn’t want you to feel like no one cared for you in this manner. And I feel very affectionate towards you, Dean, as you know. I believe this is appropriate.”

Dean blinks at the man, vaguely stunned.

Castiel shifts, tone turning a touch sheepish. “Sam drove me around until I found a bush of fresh roses. That’s why I’m wet. I am sure the patron of the home didn’t mind too much. It _is_ for Valentine’s Day.”

“Uh,” says Dean, eloquently, and takes the flowers because they’re still being shoved in his face. Castiel seems infinitely pleased, leaning back and staring down at him as if this is all exactly normal. “I… Sam told you to do this?” He’s gonna punch his brother in the dick for making him feel this awkward. 

“Well… he mentioned the flowers and Valentine’s Day, yes. I did some research – the internet is so vast, and somewhat conflicting at times – did you know this practice supposedly derives from slapping women with dead animal flesh? - but I believe the general… idea… is to express your feelings for the ones you lo… care about.” Castiel’s expression suddenly turns uncertain and he shifts again, looking down and aside to the table Dean was sitting at. “I… didn’t think you’d want a stuffed toy, but flowers seemed… like a tradition. And they smell nice and I have always appreciated the beauty of flowers, like bees… um… have I misstepped?”

Big blue puppy eyes flicker awkwardly over Dean’s face and away and back again, and Dean swallows, feelings a bit fluttery in his chest. Stupid. Stupid Cas and his stupid big sweet eyes and weird love for bees and nature and flowers, and stupid heart for thinking it's so goddamn cute shit _shit **shit**_.

“I’ve never gotten flowers on Valentine’s Day,” he offers weakly, in way of explanation.

Castiel turns a bit paler. “Oh. Should I have gotten you pornography instead?”

“ _No_ ,” Dean corrects immediately, and abruptly begins laughing at the idea of Cas greeting him with Busty Asian Babes and a big nerdy smile. He dips his head and maybe hides behind the flowers a little. “You’re a romantic, man. A real peach.”

Castiel hovers uncertainly, and if Dean didn’t know better he’d say he was embarrassed. "Uhm... I... thank you?... I think fruit has a good connotation..." He's almost muttering to himself now, half turned away in an awkward attempt to maybe escape. Dean can see the beginnings of regret flickering on that face and immediately knows he needs to thank him before Cas decides never to try and do human tradition again (no way was he discouraging Halloween).

“Thanks, Cas,” he chirps, and when the angel looks at him again, shyly, from under those stupid-long lashes, Dean makes a point to sniff one of the flowers and hum appreciatively. “You picked these yourself? From some random lady’s garden? Just for me?” His heart thuds a little. It’s cute. It’s just friggin’ cute. He’s man enough to admit it.

Castiel blinks and his awkward smile returns. “He was a man and caught me before I could get a dozen. He called me a hippie.” He frowns. “I don’t know what that one means.”

Dean laughs again, his own awkwardness dissipating, and stands up, holding the flowers close. “I've said it before and I'll say it again. Never change, Cas." The hunter smirks at the shivery little tender expression on Castiel's face before abruptly clearing his throat and shifting his weight. "We need to get some water for these,” he murmurs, and something in Cas glows a little. The hunter shoots him a look and cocks a brow again, unable to help himself. “Flowers?”

The angel shifts on his feet. “I also brought a pie. It’s in the kitchen. And… in the shape of a heart.” Cas wets his lips, frowning. “It’s cherry. I imagine it will actually be rather morbid to cut into... why one would want to eat something baked in the shape of a human organ is beyond me. Though, it isn't  _really_ that shape, so..." Cas flicks him a look and swallows. "I… thought perhaps if the flowers didn’t…”

Dean grabs him and yanks him into a hug, and maybe, just maybe, brushes his mouth on that awkward little temple. “You sappy son of a bitch,” Dean says, and Castiel hesitantly hugs him back, and the hunter can feel the angel’s lips curl where they touch Dean’s ear.

“Thank you?” Cas says, and Dean smirks, giving the man a squeeze and then a clasp-and-shake on the shoulder as he pulls back, flowers still gently held in his free hand.

“Thank _you_ , Cas,” he corrects, and the two look at each other for a long moment before looking away, both feeling secret smiles flicker on their faces.

“Come on, Starshine,” Dean says, “we’ll put these in a glass while we’re in there.”

The pie is delicious, the roses still haven’t died weeks later, and Dean doesn’t even punch as hard as he can when he hits Sam in the dick.

It’s a Valentine’s Day _miracle_.

**Author's Note:**

> The shortest thing to ever short, I know. *u* Hope you liked it anyway.
> 
> And yeah, that's seriously the best I could come up with for the title. Isuck.


End file.
